by Ophelia Bell
I’m having sex with two men. The thought is at the forefront of my mind as I pivot and rock my hips on top of Ben’s cock. His jaw is clenched with concentration, his hands gripping my hips to guide our rhythm as he slams up into me at an accelerating pace. Drake keeps up his teasing caresses, rubbing my clit faster as he growls filthy promises into my ear.
I fling my head back onto his shoulder when my climax hits and Ben’s gasp and groan signals his release. His heat fills me, making his thrusts slap lewdly between my thighs. Then he slows and heaves a shuddering breath.
Drake’s hot breath gusts against my ear as he growls, “My turn,” before bending me over.
10
Drake
I’m too hard to fucking think. All I know is that I need to be inside her, and would have tried to fuck her alongside Ben, if she hadn’t had a hard enough time getting one cock into her tight virgin pussy.
But the second Ben finishes, I’m ready. She’s barely come down from her own orgasm when I push her to his chest. Ben meets my gaze past her shoulder and nods. Not that I needed his permission, but I’m gratified to have it. He and I will finish what we started another time; having Elle is our top priority now, and when she lifts her gorgeous, round ass into the air, I know she’s ready to take me next.
Her pink pussy glistens with her arousal, a sheen of milky fluid clinging to the inside, and I press my thumb into her, then slide it around. I want to taste her, but my cock has other ideas, so I move close, line my tip with that flooded well of perfection, and push inside as slowly as I can stand. She lets out a moan that I feel all the way to my toes, and I have to brace myself not to lose my mind.
Ben’s hands come to her ass, spreading her wide even as she buries her face against his neck. Her murmur of encouragement is music to my ears as I begin to move, mind flitting between the various perfect images of her that have been burned into my memory all within the last twelve hours—her dance, her shower, and now this, the curve of her spine and the spread of her ass cheeks with my cock buried deep inside her. Ben’s hands framing my view are just the icing on the cake.
Her rocking hips increase the urgency as I fuck harder, and Ben removes one hand from her ass to reach between them. I’m gratified by her mewl of pleasure, followed by a gasp as he begins to tease between her legs. Her core tightens around my dick, and every sensation is concentrated in my lower extremities as her orgasm takes over. The milking sensation is too intense to ignore and I lose it completely, spilling my load into her in a hunched series of spasms.
I slip out and collapse to the side, chest heaving. Her cheek is still pressed to Ben’s chest, lashes thick with moisture and eyes glassy. I can’t resist the urge to stroke her cheek, but manage not to utter “good girl,” though it’s on the tip of my tongue. I’m not sure why, but it feels like that would be just a step too far.
She reaches for me mutely, as if her capacity for speech has failed her, but I know what she wants. I lean close and take her mouth, giving her a languid kiss that she returns with such enjoyment I can sense her need rising yet again.
Lower lip tucked between her teeth, she uses me for leverage to climb off Ben, then lies down between us and pulls her knees up to her chest. “I need one of you to fuck me again, or I’m going to burst into flame.”
My dick twitches with interest, but fails to come to full attention. Ben laughs. “Jesus, you’re a fucking wet dream, Ellie. Guess we really do need Baz here, don’t we?”
“Call him. He can be here in an hour, right?” she suggests.
“Let’s hold off until we can explain all this,” I say, waving at the destroyed bedsheets and Elle, who’s taken matters into her own hands and is now finger-fucking herself.
“Please, I need more.”
“I’ve got you,” I say, pulling her hand away from her pussy and moving down between her legs. Her snatch is a perfect pink slit framed by dark curls, soaked with a mix of her own fluids, mine, and Ben’s. It’s a pungent mix that makes my cock rise to half-mast at the first taste.
She sighs and lets her knees splay wide when I bury my face against her and go to town. I don’t think I’ve ever been with a woman quite as responsive, but then I typically restrict myself to male partners. I tend to crave something from women that most aren’t willing to give, something Elle didn’t even blink at when I asked for it earlier. The thought is enough to rouse my cock to full hardness, and just as the first keen of her orgasm hits, I rise onto my knees, haul her hips toward me, and plunge into her for the second time.
I don’t hold back this time, slamming in fast and hard. I meet Ben’s stare as he watches us fuck, gratified when he reaches down to take his cock in hand and jerk himself off with his eyes glued to us.
Somehow she climaxes yet again while I’m inside her, the clench of her spasming muscles even tighter than before. I’m utterly spent when I fall to her side again. She curls onto her side facing Ben and I tug her tight against me, then reach for the covers to pull them up over the three of us when Ben slides close and gives her a gentle, slow kiss on the mouth. I’m too exhausted to even bother turning out the light, but they don’t seem to care any more than I do.
“I fucking love you, Ellie,” Ben murmurs against her ear, and it’s only then that I feel like I might be intruding on something years in the making. My limbs are too heavy to give them space, though, and Elle’s fingers threading through mine tell me she wouldn’t let me if I tried.
She doesn’t answer Ben with words. Instead she reaches for him, pulling him in so tight I’m surprised she can still breathe trapped between us. When our legs tangle together, the juxtaposition of his heavy, hair-dusted ones with her slender, smooth ones wound with mine is something I didn’t realize until now that I want with my entire being.
Somehow I sleep more soundly than I have in ages, but wake disoriented and uncomfortably sticky. The pleasant shift of soft flesh in my arms reminds me quickly what occurred the night before and I crack one eyelid to verify. Elle peers up at me with a hesitant smile, and behind her, Ben’s sleepy face greets mine with a more salacious one.
“Best night I’ve had in forever,” he says. “Sleep-wise, I mean. And all the other stuff too, I guess.”
“Night terrors aren’t exactly normal fare. You been having them a long time?” I ask.
He darts his gaze away and shrugs, the casual indifference clearly a cover for whatever deep wound his subconscious acted out in his sleep last night.
“You’ve been having them since that night, haven’t you?” Elle asks, craning her head to look over her shoulder before spinning between us. “You can talk to us, Benny. You trust me, don’t you? I think you can trust Drake too. Maybe he’ll share his secrets if you tell him yours.”
She shoots me a dark look and I roll my eyes, but don’t disagree. I destroyed one of the usual barriers I have to opening up to a partner last night, but I’m not quite there yet.
Ben sighs, and I can tell he craves release of a different sort this morning.
“That fucking gun deal—it felt wrong to Manny from the minute we got there. When they found out Delgado had Celeste, it just went downhill from there. I don’t even know who shot first, but I sure as fuck know who shot last. I couldn’t stop it,” he says in a low voice. “The bleeding. The bullet pierced Manny’s heart, went clean through, and landed in Leo’s shoulder.”
“Oh, Ben. I didn’t know,” Elle says.
“Baz and I had to get him out of there. Celeste took Leo in Manny’s car. Baz drove Gustavo’s car and followed her to Mad Dog’s. I was in the back seat with Manny the whole way. I tried to stop the bleeding, but I couldn’t…”
His voice breaks, and Elle pulls him tight against her, combing her fingers through his short hair.
“It’s okay. There wasn’t anything you could have done.”
I’m not clear on what night they’re talking about, but evidently it’s a major event that shaped both their lives. I know some of the players. Celeste is Art
uro’s other daughter, and Leo and Mad Dog are her lovers. Manny … his is a name I haven’t heard, but I know the name Gustavo Delgado well enough.
“How long ago was this?” I ask.
“About three and a half years,” Elle says. “I only heard about it from Maddox at first. He kind of had to explain why there was a man with a gunshot wound staying in his place for those couple days when Sam and I went by after school. Baz filled me in on some of what happened a little later. Ben never talks about it.”
Ben flings himself back onto the pillows, covering his face with one forearm. “I don’t want to fucking think about it, much less talk about it. Manny was like a brother. Baz and I fucking worshipped the ground he walked on. After our dad died and he and Toni started dating, he sort of became the stand-in we needed for a father figure. Nobody should be forced to hold their heroes while they fucking bleed to death!”
“Nobody said that, Ben,” Elle says in a gentle tone. “I’m just glad you got a good night’s sleep for once.”
I’m not sure what else to say, though I’m no stranger to trauma. My damage isn’t quite so violent, but it’s no less insidious a thing to grapple with, even years after the fact. This isn’t about me, though, and I’m more than happy to help Ben, as long as it gives me an excuse not to face my own bullshit.
“Sex is a wonderful catalyst to healing, but you should still talk about it. Purge the darkness.”
He sighs. “I know you’re right, but it isn’t that easy.”
“Which part?” Elle asks. “The talking, or this?” Her hand roams down his chest, slipping beneath the sheet to stroke his cock. He groans and tilts his hips into her touch.
“You keep doing that, I’ll say anything you want,” he says, letting his eyelids slide closed as he bites his lip. My dick rouses too, and I’m dipping my head to nip at Elle’s neck when the thwap thwap of the helicopter’s rotor reverberates from above, and I wince.
“Fuck. I told Duffy to fly Baz out first thing. Guess we should regroup and figure out what to do about all this later.”
“Fucking cockblocker,” Ben mutters when Elle utters a soft curse and climbs over me, grabs her towel, then sprints out the door.
“Give me two minutes and I’ll take care of you,” I offer.
Ben shakes his head and slips out the other side of the bed, padding to the bathroom. “She’s into you. I don’t want to piss her off.”
“That’s really magnanimous of you. And here I thought you couldn’t stand me.”
My smirk fades when he turns in the bathroom doorway, hands braced on either side of the frame, with an expression so tortured I’m convinced his true trauma has nothing to do with the story he told.
“What happened last night wasn’t about us; it was about her. Everything is about her. Whether or not I acknowledge some thing going on between you and me is beside the point.”
“But I didn’t imagine it, did I? That there is something here.” I point between the two of us as I slip out of bed and pick up my shorts.
His gaze drops to my dick just as I yank on my shorts, then shifts to the ceiling when I catch him looking. His cheeks turn bright red, but the fact that he’s half-hard now is a dead giveaway to the effect I have. The fact that he’s clearly uncomfortable with the idea is another giveaway, though.
“You’ve never done that before, have you?” I ask. “Fool around with another man.”
He pivots away without answering and reaches into the shower to turn the water on. I round the bed and lean in the bathroom doorway, determined to get him to open up just a little.
“Your brother know you like dudes?”
I get a noncommittal shrug in reply. I consider coming clean and telling him about my conversation with Baz the night before, but decide against it. That had to be what Baz meant when he said I could help Ben in a way he couldn’t. He probably didn’t expect Elle to be involved, though.
“You can talk to me about it, you know. It can be an adjustment, discovering you like things that people might judge you for liking. Trust me, I know. But you aren’t alone in this.”
He climbs under the spray and directs a hard stare my way as he angles the showerhead toward his chest. He reaches for the bar of fancy soap the housekeeping staff supply to all the guest rooms, sniffs it, then gives an appreciative nod before lathering his armpits. His eyes shift back to me.
“Doesn’t matter what I want or need, because what happened last night can’t happen again. It’s against every rule to fuck a client, and before you say anything, I consider you a client too. Especially after what we found at your place. Tell me those cameras weren’t meant for you, that someone doesn’t have it out for you. The second we found out you were under surveillance, that made it clear Elle isn’t the only one at risk. Getting involved is the last thing we should do if we’re going to do our jobs protecting both you and Elle.”
“Fair enough, but you and I both know Elle isn’t as easy to control. You saw her last night. She’s going to want more.”
He shakes his head. “She’ll regret it.”
“And if she doesn’t? What if I’m right, and you and I have just opened Pandora’s box… Wait, you didn’t see her little show yesterday, did you? She’s a fucking bomb waiting to go off if we don’t give her some outlet. Now that she knows you want her—hell, that I want her—she’s going to want to explore these feelings.”
“How the fuck do you know so much?” he snaps. “You the fucking Virgin Whisperer or something?”
“I’m just very observant when it comes to women, and in case you missed it, she’s not a virgin anymore. We both had a taste, and I know the second I leave you alone in here, you’re going to remember every perfect second of being inside her, of being the man who had her first, and you’re going to soap up that dick and whack off until your balls are empty—but it won’t stop you wanting her. If you’re anything like me, she’s an itch you’ll never be able to scratch without going back for the real thing.”
His jaw flexes and a vein beneath the ink covering his neck begins to pulse rapidly. But he just sneers at me. “Get the fuck out of here before my brother catches you perving on me in the shower. You don’t want to piss him off, because he can ruin your life.”
It isn’t an empty threat. Ben’s the muscle and is smart as a whip, but Baz is brilliant when it comes to cyber security. Which also means he can royally fuck my entire corporation with a few keystrokes, if he puts his mind to it.
Just as I turn to leave, he calls out, “When Baz figures it out, let me handle him.”
“Why would you tell him?”
“I don’t plan to, but he’ll know. Secrets aren’t a thing for us. But he doesn’t need to know everything. If I can, I’ll make him believe it was just me. He’ll be jealous, but he’ll deal. If he knows about you… I can’t promise he won’t do something to get even.”
11
Ben
Why I feel the need to protect Drake from Baz, I have no clue. A nagging voice tells me it’s because he isn’t wrong—that we have a connection. I’m just not ready to listen to it yet. I’m still trying to process the fever dream of a three-way I had with him and Elle last night.
He utters a reluctant “thank you” before disappearing out the door so I can shower in peace. Of course his prediction is spot-on, because the second he’s gone, I close my eyes and picture the series of events that led to Elle straddling my hips to pop her precious cherry on my aching dick.
I can’t not take care of myself. I’m hard within seconds, fist wrapped around my shaft, stroking up a foamy lather with that sweet, expensive-smelling soap. She was so goddamn tight, so hot and wet, but the look in her eyes was what did me in—as if I were her fantasy come true. Every sweet second, she was fully invested, even when Drake took over, pounding into her moments after I’d spilled inside her, bringing her off again while she clung to me, kissing me into oblivion.
Jesus. If I didn’t have to face my brother soon, I’d just stand in
this fucking shower and jerk off to the memory all damn day. But what I said to Drake wasn’t a lie, which dampens my enjoyment, preventing me from getting hard a second time.
It can’t happen again. Not as long as either of them are in danger. Not while Amador has it out for Arturo and his daughters. And not while this new, mysterious threat is hanging over Drake’s head.
I shouldn’t have let it happen the first time, but I wasn’t exactly coherent when they came into my room. It wasn’t until I was sandwiched between them that the haze of my blood-drenched nightmare faded, only to be replaced with a need so thick it was like quicksand. I can’t let myself be such a slave to my impulses again, no matter how much I want to explore these new desires; for Elle, who I’ve always loved, but never imagined would want more than friendship; and for Drake, an attraction which came over me so unexpectedly I have no idea how to properly compartmentalize it.
In an effort to shock my system back into business, I flip the temperature to cold and am gratified by the icy, slightly brine-scented water that blasts against my heated skin. I angle the spray to my crotch, then back to my head, bending to let it cascade over me before tilting back and letting out a roar of pent-up frustration. The yell clears my head enough to focus so I can at least mentally prepare to face Baz.
There’s no sign of him on this deck, so I find the elevator up, following the scent of fresh coffee and bacon to the open-air dining area, where I find my twin digging into a plate loaded with food from a small buffet. He’s alone, which is some relief, because it makes it easier to relax. I load up a plate of breakfast for myself, pour a mug of coffee from the carafe, and sit at the four-person table situated under an awning that shades the deck.